Bad Moon Rising
by BiteMeTechie
Summary: There is a maddening itch beneath her skin and Teyla just can't reach it. It is the sign of great and terrible changes on the horizon.
1. Werewolf!

Stupid Halloween challenge getting under my skin.

Stupid John Landis and his stupid inspiring movie.

Stupid Credence Clearwater Revival pumping through my headphones.

Stupid plot bunnies that won't let me get a decent nights sleep!

RAWR!

-flails and falls off office chair twitching-

----------

Teyla had an itch, but was unsure of just how to scratch it. It irritated her to the point of madness because no matter what she did, she just could **not** reach it.

It was as though something was burrowing under her skin, scratching at it from beneath the surface. She itched all the way down to her toes in that way that someone who had waltzed through a field of poison ivy would have. That all encompassing itch that will not subside with even the most copious amounts of calamine lotion would not cure. She could feel it even under her nails, in her gums, on her scalp. Even her _teeth_ felt itchy.

If she had been able, she would have gladly stripped out of her skin to make it stop. Would have torn off the flesh beneath and then scratched at her bones.

It seemed as though the itch was just under the epidermis, and for one crazy moment, she considered that clawing it off would solve the problem.

"Teyla?"

Her head jerked quickly to the source of the sound and she blinked dully a few times, her senses taking far too long for her liking to catch up with her, "Yes, Doctor Weir?"

"Are you alright?" She asked, concern evident in her tone.

Teyla looked at the Atlantis expedition leader, "I am...fine, Doctor Weir. I am merely- she paused to search for the right word to express how she was feeling, and found it after a slight bit of difficulty, "_eager_ to go on the mission."

Elizabeth looked at the Athosian appraisingly for a moment, before she turned back to the assembled team to finish giving her orders.

The muscles in Teyla's thigh twitched as she sat, listening to Elizabeth's instructions for the team and she had to force herself to focus on the constant movement that the older woman's lips made, had to force herself to concentrate on the sound of each syllable and make sense of them.

It took a great deal of effort to try and stay focused and listen, Teyla found that the words were turning into nothing but sharp jumbles of sound that ran together, folded in on themselves, and then fell apart, making no sense whatsoever. She heard the sounds, but her brain only made connections to their meanings after a delay that she deemed far too long.

It was almost as though her native tongue was changing, if that was at all possible. Like the language she had known all her life was slowly being replaced by another.

Several words filtered through and she was able to get the general gist of what was being said.

Close to a month before, Sheppard's team had ventured to a world that was inhabited by a race of people that Teyla had never heard of before. The Nacyl were a friendly people, if a bit primitive, who had welcomed the team into their circle and agreed to ally with them. They would have been happy to trade with them when they had first arrived, but their leader Sidnal explained that the harvest festival was just beginning and their strict spiritual code forbade any kind of trade with outsiders until after it was through.

They could receive visitors, take them into their homes, share meals with them and the like, (as they had done with Sheppard's team), but they could not trade and violate the sanctity of their festival.

So, Sidnal asked if they could resume the negotiations again once their festival was finished. Of course, SGA 1 agreed, and now the specified amount of time had passed, leaving them only to return and pick up where they left off.

Sidnal. He was a warrior and diplomat rolled into one, Teyla mused. He had taken a keen interest in Teyla especially, wanting to know all there was to know about her people. She had told him a brief history of Athos and of her people, which pleased him greatly. He revealed that his own people had a similar past with the exception that his race hadn't been culled in over a century. Not even since they had reawakened once again.

She had listened with interest, curious as to how his people had managed to avoid a Wraith culling for so very long as she and the other members of her team ate with elders of the village. The food was plentiful, she remembered, and all of it more succulent than anything she could recall ever having before. She certainly hoped that they could find a good exchange for that dark bittersweet fruit that was used to make the sweet breads that had been served.

Teyla's shoulder blades shifted as she moved slightly in her chair, getting more restless as she thought about the Nacylian planet. All she wanted to do was get to there and stretch her legs. The wide open spaces there were more than inviting in her current mood.

Her muscles just _ached_ with the need to move.

Not just move...to run...to push herself to the limit. To reach that unreachable height that she could feel pulling at the edges of her consciousness. She knew it was there, she could sense it...could feel the energy pulsing just outside her reach, taunting her, whispering to her that if she could push herself hard enough, she would reap the rewards that came with catching the elusive power.

And it _was_ elusive. It had been dancing just out of reach for close to a month, it's call to her growing louder with each passing night, it's pull ever stronger with each setting of the sun until it was so loud that she could barely stand it.

She couldn't _wait_ until they were through the gate and she was once again standing on open land. The city was beautiful, but right now she just needed to feel solid ground beneath her feet with the scent of grass and dirt filling her nostrils. She was certain she would find what she needed on the Nacyl's planet.

Why she was so positive, she couldn't tell, but she knew the second her feet touched the Nacylian soil, she would no longer feel the need to crawl out of her skin.

----

It was night on the Nacylian planet, the twin moons hanging heavy in the sky, both full and looking as though she could just reach up and touch them.

Teyla stepped away from the gate, the first breath she took filling her lungs with the sharp tang of fresh air, mixed with something cloying that she identified immediatly.

"Colonel Sheppard there is something..." She trailed off and lifted her head, closing her eyes as she breathed more deeply, trying to decide which direction the scent was coming from.

"What is it, Teyla?"

"There is something...wrong," she said after a long moment.

McKay scoffed, "Oh, that's _very_ specific."

Her eyes flew open and she spun to look at the physicist. You would think after all the times she had saved his life he would learn to trust her instincts. "I smell something."

McKay took a step back at the strength of her glare, but couldn't keep his mouth shut, "Dirt, grass, trees, leaves, flowers, big deal."

Teyla turned again, scenting the air once more, "No. It is blood."

Sheppard, McKay and Ronon all glanced at each other briefly before looking back at her oddly.

"I don't smell anything," McKay said, narrowing his eyes as he studied her intently.

"I cannot explain it," she said truthfully, still moving her head as she tried to catch the faint elusive scent move effectively, "But it is there."

Sheppard stepped closer to her and gently placed a hand on her shoulder, "Maybe we should put off this trade thing for a couple of days...until Beckett's had the chance to take a look at you, Teyla."

She snapped her head around to look at him, "I am not ill."

"I'm not saying you are, Teyla," Sheppard said carefully, not liking the way she was glaring at him in the least, "I just-"

A tree branch snapped, the sound echoing in her ears as loud as if it had happened right next to her and her body turned instinctively towards the source of the noise.

"There is someone in the surrounding underbrush," she stated, searching for any movement to be found, her dark eyes narrowed to slits.

"Teyla, you're starting to worry me-"

She didn't listen to him, just continued to watch where the area where she was certain the sound had originated.

There. That bush. It twitched.

She threw down her gun and her teammates looked at her in alarm as she took two purposeful steps foreword in the direction of the offending bush. A low rumble came from her chest, deep, threatening.

"Teyla, hold on!" Sheppard grabbed her by the forearm, stopping her.

"Release me." She demanded, her voice coming out in a growl that she didn't recognize.

"No."

Why didn't he understand? There was someone right there, watching them and there was blood in the air! Why couldn't he smell it? Why couldn't he hear the enemy? Why was he looking at her as though she were mad?

Her eyes flashed angrily as she turned to stare at her friends. They didn't see what she saw. They didn't sense the danger or understand this need that was bubbling up inside her to protect them like a wild animal protects it's young.

The bush twitched again and this time Sheppard caught sight of the movement. A dark, lumbering form immerged from the foliage, huge and slightly hunched over.

"McKay," Sheppard murmured, taking a slow step backwards, "Dial the gate."

"Already on it." Came the panicked reply which was accompanied by the sounds of the DHD being dialed.

Teyla watched as the dark form ambled towards them slowly, paying no heed to Sheppard, "Teyla, come on. Come on!"

The form stepped out of the darkness and revealed itself to be an enormous wild beast, covered in matted silver and black fur. It resembled something that Sheppard had once shown her in an encyclopedia, but she couldn't remember what it was called.

In fact, as the animal continued it's advance, she found herself not caring what anything was called anymore. All there was in the world was that _thing_ and it's apparent malice towards her cluster of friends. She had to protect them. She had to.

The blood surged in her head, giving her a sharp pain between the eyes when she heard it snarl and she tore her arm from Sheppard's grasp.

She barely even heard his desperate cry of "Teyla!" when she shoved him away violently and launched herself in the direction of the creature with a primal roar.

The muscles in her thighs coiled and flexed as she sprang at it, hands outstretched and her elegant fingers contorted into ten sharply bent hooks that sank deeply into it's flesh.

Teyla was snarling, growling and making other noises she was unaware she possessed the ability to make as she clawed at the beast. All of her muscles were being pushed as far as she could force them as she continued to scratch and kick and bite, the itch that had been so prevalent mere hours before growing less and less pronounced as she finally addressed the violent urges that had been trying to make themselves known over the past month.

The blood rushing in her ears was all she could hear, all she could feel was the straining of her body against the monster who was intent on hurting her friends.

She fought and fought and fought, heedless of the Kawoosh! of the outgoing wormhole, completely unaware of anything other than the struggle between herself and the animal that she had her fingernails dug into.

She tore at the animal's flesh with her teeth as it grabbed her around the throat, trying to assert it's dominance over her and failing spectacularly.

The pent up energy that she had been so desperate to release was beginning to weaken as she felt the beginnings of exhaustion fighting for supremacy against her bloodlust.

"I can't shoot! I don't know which one is Teyla!"

The sound of Sheppard crying her name with such anxiety strengthened her and she fought with new resolve.

Teyla had to win. She _had_ to. If she didn't, this monster would surely tear her friends apart.

She would not let that happen. Regardless of the cost, that **must** not happen.

Her teeth around the animal's throat and she ripped it upwards, hearing with satisfaction the anguished cry it let out as the rush of crimson warmth flooded her mouth.

She held fast as it tried to fight her off fruitlessly, it's struggles growing weaker and weaker with every passing second.

Teyla didn't release it until it's desperate movements ceased entirely.

She rolled her head back and let out a wild cry of triumph, calling out her victory for the whole planet to hear.

The adrenaline began to drain away from her as she stood and turned to look back at her teammates with a tired but satisfied grin on her face.

All of them had their weapons trained on her, and she was left in confusion.

Why? Why were they looking at her that way? She had saved them!

Her chest was heaving as she tried to take a step towards them, but the world suddenly started to spin like a roulette wheel in front of her eyes, leaving her disoriented.

Teyla shook her head, trying to clear it, but found that with the sharp drop in adrenaline she could no longer support her weight. She dropped to her knees and collapsed in the dirt, out cold.

The three men were silent for several seconds, left speechless by what they had just been witnesses to. Sheppard took a cautious step foreword, P90 still pointed at her head. She didn't move.

He took another step closer.

Almost all trace of the beast she had been moments before was gone, leaving her in her humanoid form, swathed in what little remained of her uniform, now torn and ripped beyond the point of recognition by the combined transformation and ensuing battle.

"Is she-" McKay looked at the unconscious Teyla Emmagen with an expression that was an equal mixture of healthy terror, worry and curiosity.

Sheppard got down on his knees and pressed his hand to her throat, searching for the tell tale pulse beneath his fingers, "She's alive. Unconscious, but alive."

Teyla's body twitched slightly and McKay took an instinctive step back while raising his weapon.

"Is she a _werewolf_?" He asked, all his words coming out in a whispered rush that bordered on awe.

Sheppard looked up at the astrophysicist, "Either that, or this is the Athosian equivalent of PMS."

----------

A/N:Wahaha! I can't get away from humor in this fandom. It just takes so much more effort to write drama or horror when McKay is involved...

This was my very _first_ Teyla-centric piece and I _like_ it. Ah..how satisfying to make her lose complete control, while still being somewhat _in_ control, in a very animal kind of way. Also got to have fun with spelling things backwards. Nacyl-Lycan, Sidnal-Landis. Lycan, of course, is the shortening of the more scientific (snort) term for Werewolf Lycanthrope, while Landis is for John Landis...the man who created "An American Werewolf In London" (watch it, it is _hilarious_..well, I think so at least, but I've got a sick sense of humor, as if you didn't know that already) which fits my image of what a Werewolf ought to look like.

I'm bound to get lots of reviews for this that are comprised of "Wtf?" moments. Blah. I still liked writing it. I actually _like_ Werewolf!Teyla. Who knows...maybe I'll continue this storyline sometime.

Hopefully this will be my last Halloween challenge fic. Unless I can get that Zombie!Rodney tale to work...


	2. Werewolf?

Werewolf.

Teyla kept hearing the word, but had no idea what it meant. She heard it at least once every time she regained consciousness. Whether it was said by McKay, Beckett or Sheppard didn't matter, it was the one constant that her fragmented mind could hold onto as she drifted in and out of the darkness.

If at all possible, Teyla was certain that she felt even more muddled now than she had before they had gone to the Nacylian planet.

She felt a surge in her blood at the thought of the planet, felt her pulse quicken and her nerves come alive at the mere thought of the wide open space, fresh air and full moons.

There was something else about the planet that made her blood sing and she struggled to put a name to it.

She remembered bits and pieces of what had happened, but nothing substantial. The smell of blood on the air, the movement of a bush, having to protect her pack from the beast in the foliage.

Her eyes flew open, pupils dilated to pinpoints.

She made a kill there. That was it. That was what made her flesh crackle with electricity.

She remembered the sensation of her jaw closing tight around the throat of her victim and the rush of warmth over her teeth as she crushed the bone and muscle between her mighty jaws..

The itch in her skin that had subsided made itself known once more as she thought of the desperate, twitching movements of the monster that she tore at it's body and choked the life from it's form.

She thrashed her head from side to side, recapturing the moment of the kill in her mind, reliving every gory second of the fight, making her feel vibrant and alive once more.

The muscles in her thighs tightened and relaxed as she remembered what it was like to run free.

She had to feel that again. She _had_ to.

Teyla moved to sit up and found that she couldn't.

Confusion surged up through her, taking the place of the blood lust and excitement that had been there moments before.

Why couldn't she sit up?

She moved violently in her bed, unable to understand in her mind's currently fragmented state that she was tied down.

She didn't understand why her limbs weren't free to move in the way she wanted them to, and her confusion quickly gave way to anger as she continued her valiant struggle against the leather straps chafing her wrists and ankles.

Her movements became more desperate and more frantic as her torso lifted off the bed and her

legs pulled at the shackles that kept her glued to the bed.

Teyla became aware of swift movement to her left and she snapped her head to one side so that she could get a better look at the man who was trying to calm her down.

She knew him, but couldn't put a name to the face.

In fact, she found that she couldn't put a name to anything, which disturbed her a lot less than she would have liked.

But somewhere, buried deep in her mind, under all the animal impulses that were dominant, she remembered him.

He moved to her side, something sharp in his hand that she recognized as an instrument that would bring her pain.

He was going to do something that was going to hurt her, she knew that regardless of his soft tone of voice and calming words.

"Alright lass, calm down and-"

She snarled at him, body straining against the bindings that held her fast to the bed and her teeth bared.

He wasn't part of her pack, not directly anyway, so he was going to be threatened and snarled at whether he liked it or not.

She jerked and convulsed on the mattress, joints making loud popping noises as she fought against the leather that was wrapped securely around her arms and legs.

An ounce of pride and satisfaction blossomed deep inside her when she saw him take a step back, his eyes wide and startled.

The satisfaction faded when he stepped back towards her with the syringe in hand and determination replacing the fear.

"Now there'll be none of that in my infirmary, young lady," he said sternly as he grabbed hold of her arm and held it steady so that he could inject her with the contents of the syringe.

Teyla let out an angry howl as the needle pierced her flesh and she snapped at the man-she-knew-but-didn't-know viciously.

If she had been able to reach him, she was certain she would have bitten him. How dare he restrain her and try to-

Oh wow.

She blinked a few times, slowly, and wondered why the world had suddenly gone all crooked.

Teyla stopped snarling as she tried to make sense of her surroundings, which were now tilted on their axis and beginning to spin like a roulette wheel.

She flopped back on the bed, her head so heavy that her neck couldn't support it anymore and she let out a lazy growl deep in her chest.

Something patted her arm and she turned to look at the source of the touch and found it was Carson.

Carson. That was it. That was his name.

She nodded her head sleepily in confirmation, more to herself than to anyone else. Carson. She did know him.

The drugs in her system calmed her animal impulses and let more rational thought seep through for the few moments before she drifted into unconsciousness again.

She was back on Atlantis, in the infirmary and under the capable care of Doctor Beckett. She was safe.

Some tiny amount of comfort at this thought followed her into the darkness that washed over her. Home. Care. Safety.

Her fragmented mind held onto those words like a drowning person clinging to a life preserver as her eyelids drooped and her breathing grew slow and regular.

Home. Care. Safety.

As long as she remembered what she knew now when she woke up again, she would be fine.

----

A/N: Yes..it's continuing. Why? I have no idea. It just...won't die. Any thoughts/ideas on where this could go? Cause I'm kinda bankrupt in the fresh ideas department at the moment.


	3. There!

Still flying by the seat of my pants...but hey, it's the only way to travel.  
-----

Elizabeth Weir stood in Carson Beckett's office, her hands clasped tightly behind her back and her lips pressed together into a thin line.

When Carson entered the room, she turned to face him, looking more severe than ever, "How is she?"

"Resting," Beckett replied, "But she won't be for long."

"Why?"

"Every time she wakes up it takes more tranquilizer to put her down," Carson answered with a sigh, "At this rate, within twenty four hours it'll take a lethal dose. It seems like with every reawakening she gets wilder and wilder."

"Do we have any idea what's wrong with her?" Elizabeth asked, eyes narrowed.

"Well, she's...she's-" Carson had a hard time verbalizing the impossible diagnosis.

"She's a werewolf."

"I wouldn't use so pedestrian a word, but aye, in layman's terms, she is a werewolf."

Elizabeth leaned against Carson's desk and crossed her arms over her middle, "Do you have any idea what caused this?"

"From her blood work and all the preliminary tests I've run, I can say, with absolute certainty-"

"You have no idea."

"No, I don't." Carson tucked his hands into his lab coat pockets, "What little I know from the test results is...unusual, to say the least."

One of Elizabeth's eyebrows quirked upwards, "I don't think anyone would call Lycanthropy unusual. Impossible is the term that springs readily to mind."

"Aye, not in the traditional sense is Lycanthropy possible, but this seems to be bordering on genetic manipulation."

"Like the ATA gene therapy?" Weir questioned.

"Oh no, this is far more sophisticated than that." Beckett crossed his arms over his chest thoughtfully, "It's quite fascinating, really. It looks like Teyla's DNA has been altered and spliced with that of some kind of wild animal-"

"I don't care how fascinating it is, Doc," John Sheppard's voice interrupted from the doorway, "I want to know what the hell caused this."

"I wish I could tell you, Colonel, but I don't know." Carson looked at Sheppard pointedly, "There's no way to tell exactly what caused this transformation without patience and research, and at Teyla's current rate of degeneration, I don't think we'll have much time for either."

"How much time do you estimate we have to work with?"

Carson sighed, "I'd say we've got anywhere between twenty four and seventy two hours."

"That specific, huh doc?"

"You've got to understand, Colonel, I've never dealt with anything like this," Carson said, "Nobody has."

"Nobody on Earth, at least," John muttered.

"You're thinking the Nacyl know about this?" Weir asked.

"I don't think they could have something like that thing running around on their planet and be totally unaware of it, no."

"Teyla's strange behavior does coincide with the two visits to the planet," Beckett said simply, "The logical assumption is that it has something to do with her transformation."

Elizabeth stood once more and clasped her hands behind her back authoritatively, "Take two teams, John, and I want you to take every precaution. Find out everything you can from the Nacyl about what happened on the planet."

-  
A/N: There's nothing in the world like writing Carson Beckett.

Mostly because I have to sit here and say all of his lines in a Scottish accent to make sure I've got it just right.

Boy, writing exposition in dialogue is hard. Especially when it comes to keeping everybody in character.

Also, I'm without the security blanket that is Rodney McKay, whom I'm so comfortable with. -clutches at the nearest thing, which turns out to be Carson- But I'm sure I'll be fine...-squeeze-

And is it just me, or is this thing playing out like an episode of the show? 


	4. What?

Two hours and two SG teams later, Sheppard stepped away from the Stargate on P3X-925. It was daylight, but the twin moons were still visible in the sky, mere shadows in comparison to how they had looked the night before.

The Colonel narrowed his eyes and scanned the horizon, paying closer attention than the last time he'd been on the planet. This time around he made certain to watch every single bush in sight for any trace of movement. After sweeping the immediate area with Lorne's team, he concluded that there was nothing waiting in the wings, preparing to spring out at them.

"Major Lorne, I want you to stick close to the Gate and radio the second there's trouble. I'm going to take my team and go talk to the villagers...provided there's any left."

"Yes sir," Lorne dutifully replied.

"Colonel Sheppard!" McKay called, "Colonel, you have to see this!"

Sheppard turned to look at the source of the voice, "What is it Rodney?"

"Get over here and _look_!" McKay shouted.

Sheppard shrugged and strode over to where McKay was crouched on the ground on his hands and knees. The patch of grass that he was next to was a snowy white.

John looked behind himself and gauged the distance between the patch of grass and the Gate, and was about to comment on it when Ronon beat him to the punch.

"This is where Teyla fought that animal," the Satedan said, folding his arms over his chest.

"Yeah. It looks like it's been bleached with something," Sheppard mumbled, eying the patch of grass warily.

"It has, as best I can figure it," McKay answered, "It's some kind of purifying agent that's stripped the ground of all it's trace minerals. Hence the bleached appearance."

"Somebody cleaned house."

"And recently," the scientist added, "Whatever was laid down here was done in the last hour or so."

"There aren't any drag marks, either," Sheppard noted, "Someone came to claim the body?"

"Or this...whatever it is that was used to clean the area was potent enough to dissolve it completely in a matter of minutes."

"Is that even possible?" Sheppard asked, looking a bit more concerned than he did a few minutes earlier.

"I have no idea what kinds of chemicals or technology the Nacyl have available to them, but I certainly wouldn't rule it out as a possibility."

John crouched down to look at the grass more closely, "Could this have been a side effect of that...thing dying here?"

"What, like accelerated decomposition that effects the surrounding area? I suppose anything is possible. Some naturally occurring enzyme or chemical in the blood that can strip minerals from flora and kill them as a result."

"Like that guy on The X Files with the acidic blood."

"A fair comparison, but can you imagine how toxic that monster's bodily fluids would have to be in order to do this kind of damage?"

"You're the scientist, Rodney."

"Clearly, Mister X Files," McKay sniped.

The Colonel spared his subordinate the tiniest of glares before he jabbed a thumb behind himself in the direction of the village, "We'll get a sample of the stuff on the way back. For now, I want to find out what the Nacyl know."

----

A/N: Cut to commercial!

Hey...anyone onto the chapter naming scheme yet? Truckloads of cookies to the first person who gets it.

-wanders off to work on something else-


	5. There Wolf

Nenya (surprise, surprise...I need a thicker tin foil cap, methinks) gets the semi-truck full of cookies. I hope you like chocolate striped shortbread. Stealth Dragon gets a slightly smaller amount of cookies for guessing after Nenya.

Now that the cookie distribution has been completed: Onwards!

---

All the huts were empty and everything was absolutely silent in the Nacyl village when Sheppard, McKay and Ronon got there.

It was completely deserted. Not a single soul in sight and no indication that they had been there in days.

"What do you think?" Sheppard asked, "A culling?"

"They probably ran from whatever that thing was that attacked Teyla."

"As I recall," McKay put in, "Teyla is the one who attacked first."

"Pre-emptive strike," Ronon said, eyes narrowed and his arms folded over his chest.

"Either way," Colonel Sheppard began, poking his head into one of the huts to take a quick look around and then coming back out again, "That doesn't tell us where they are now."

"Hmmm," McKay tapped his chin thoughtfully, "If I was under attack from a wild animal the size of a Volkswagen, where would I hide?"

"We are not hiding, Doctor McKay."

The three companions spun on their heels to find one of the Nacyl standing twenty feet away from them, a woman who had been with the greeting party the first time they came to the planet. While her name escaped Sheppard for the moment, he knew her face. She looked different than when they had first met however. Now her clothing was covered in dirt and her face smudged with mud and ash.

"Where is everyone?" Colonel Sheppard asked her.

"At the cliffs," she answered, pointing back the way she came, "We have just finished burying our dead."

McKay paled considerably, "_Dead_?"

The Nacylian bowed her head sadly, "There were many this time. Our leader among them."

"Was it the Wraith?"

"The cause is unimportant," she answered dismissively, changing the subject quickly she looked up at the three, "You have come for the cleansing?"

The three looked at each other briefly before looking back at her. "Cleansing?" Ronon inquired.

She ignored him and glanced around, searching for something, "Where is the one called Emmagen?"

"She's not with us," John said.

"But she has been infected," the Nacylian woman tipped her head curiously, "You must bring her here for the cleansing,"

"Infected?" McKay frowned.

She looked at the scientist oddly, "You do not have the infection on your home planet?"

"Do we have people turning into animals around the full moon? Noooo."

Sheppard glared at McKay momentarily before turning back to look at the woman, "You said Teyla was infected and needs to be part of this...cleansing. You still haven't explained what the cleansing is."

The Nacylian sighed, "It will take time to make you understand what the infection is." She gestured with her hand back towards the cliffs, indicating that they should follow her, "Come, I must show you to make it clear."

---

A/N: Uhh...-scratches head-

Still only have a vague idea of where I'm going...


	6. There Castle

The young Nacylian woman, who was revealed to be named Orha, led Sheppard, McKay and Ronon back the direction she had come, speaking the whole while.

"The infection was started many centuries ago," she said, stepping gingerly over some scattered rocks, "Originally, it was a genetic experiment to enhance the strength of our warriors but it went awry."

McKay let out a little scoff, "You're telling me that _you_ had the technology for genetic engineering?"

Sheppard gave McKay a 'don't piss off the natives' glare, "What Rodney means is, we thought you were a farming community...we didn't meet any scientists here before."

"Nor will you ever, Colonel," Orha replied, "My people renounced the advanced sciences long ago. It brought the curse of the infection on us."

McKay lifted a skeptical eyebrow, "So you just what, decided to ignore your own development and go back to a simpler way of life?"

"In essence, yes," Orha answered, "The elders decreed that the research was an abomination and everything associated with it was burned. They hoped that by destroying the research itself and killing those who were already infected, they could wipe out the disease. It did not work out quite as well as they had hoped, unfortunately. The disease was too wide spread. In some, it caused violent changes, like those that inflicted the Nacyl you encountered at the gate, but in others, the changes were more subtle as the original intent of the project had been."

"Like?"

"Sharper senses...more acute hearing and sight...advanced sense of smell and taste." Orha said, "Those who were infected with the more violent tendencies went Feral and became a different tribe that took to living wild in the forests."

"And the rest?" Ronon asked, regarding the Nacylian carefully.

"They moved on with their lives...had families, raised children...adapted to the new existence that was forced on them by the infection. The Nacylians that you have already met are their descendants."

McKay stopped walking abruptly, "You mean...you're...you're _infected_?"

"Yes." Orha took in the almost fearful look in McKay's eyes and gestured quickly with her hands, "But not in the way that you think. Those who turned feral became an entirely different species; violent, murderous creatures without a single shred of humanity left. The others were the same as they always were but became stronger and more agile."

Sheppard narrowed his eyes, "But you haven't mentioned anything about the infection causing people to change...the way it did for Teyla."

Orha sighed heavily, "That is the most horrible part of the story, Colonel. Every few generations, there is one born who is both; one with the ability to become Feral or human at will, who transforms in the way that your Emmagen did. These are the most difficult to deal with because they have the animalistic tendencies of the Ferals but the intelligence of the Nacyl. We call them the Twofold."

"That still doesn't explain how Teyla managed to _become_ one of them," Ronon said suspiciously.

"I am getting to that," Orha answered impatiently, upset at all of the interruptions, "The Twofold can masquerade as one species or the other, but they cannot mate successfully with either the Nacyl _or_ the Ferals. Therefore, they must find a suitable partner from another world and _change_ them into Twofold."

"Teyla," McKay said in a horrified whisper, "You're saying that one of the Twofold intentionally infected her for the purposes of...mating with her?"

"There is no other explanation," Orha replied, "We had thought there were no more Twofold left in the village, but apparently we were wrong."

"You mean you can't _tell_ which is which?"

"As I said, Doctor McKay, the Twofold have the ability to change at will and can appear to be human. In the few instances throughout the past century that there have been Twofold found in the village, they were only discovered because they were killed in their animal form and transformed after death. A Twofold can live out their entire existence without anyone knowing what they truly are, if they are careful and do not seek a mate."

"So why don't they all do that? Just live out their lives as Nacyl?"

"The need to procreate is too great for some to resist," she said, "It is a part of their baser nature that they are unable to ignore. Thus they seek out a suitable mate at any cost and change them in hopes of starting a new pack of Twofold."

"Is there any way to cure someone who's been changed?" Sheppard asked hopefully.

"Only the cleansing, Colonel," Orha answered solemnly, resuming her walk towards the cliffs where a small cluster of villagers waited, "Only the cleansing."

-

A/N: What do you know...I've found a plot for this thing. A really, really intricate procedural plot

Gah. Damn it.


	7. Why Are You Talking Like That?

Teyla Emmagen awoke with a start, her heart thudding hard insider her chest and her breaths coming in short, violent gasps. If she'd had the presence of mind to make a comparison, she would have likened it to being awakened by being doused with cold water.

However, she _didn't_ have the presence of mind for such complicated thinking processes and resigned herself instead to listening to her foremost primal instinct.

Namely: Struggling against her bonds as hard as her worn muscles would allow.

Her nerves were raw and she felt the pressing weight of stress so strongly that she thought it was suffocating her.

Honestly, it was _just_ like having a large stone laid squarely on her chest. Her head was swimming and the room spun, leaving her nauseous, scared and _desperate_ to get free.

When Carson approached her bedside she didn't snap at him the way she had before, although she had the urge to do so at first.

Something burrowed deep inside her kept her from it. Something that told her she had no need to fear him.

It was her own thoughts echoing back to her: home, care, _safety_.

A needle plunged into her arm and she let out a howl, more out of anger that it was interrupting her almost coherent train of thought than pain.

She thrashed on the infirmary bed, wanting so badly to get ahold of those comforting thoughts that had been there seconds before. Wishing she could grab hold of them and hang on because they were the only thing keeping her from slipping entirely into the abyss of insanity that tugged at her mind invitingly.

Something cool found it's way to her forehead and while she flinched away at first, with the tranquilizer doing it's job in her blood stream, she leaned into the touch.

Her eyes opened wide and she say him taking up her entire field of vision, looking down at her, his kind blue eyes wide and his mouth moving as he reassured her with words the animal part of her didn't understand.

_Carson_, a little voice in her head whispered. _Safe. Doctor. Healer. **Friend**._

Teyla flopped back on the bed, reeling from the feeling of fleeting familiarity that made itself known. It was so intense that she thought the top of her head might come off.

His voice, a dull murmur beneath the loud beating of her own heart, was comforting.

She looked at him, trying to make that same feeling of familiarity return.

He looked worried...more worried than she had ever seen him before and her acute senses picked up the adrenaline coursing through his veins.

He was _terrified._

The protective instinct she had felt back on the planet surged up inside her again.

Teyla's inner animal made the connection between the two quite effectively.

He was a part of her pack. He was frightened of something. It was her duty to make that fear go away.

But she was so tired...so very, _very_ tired.

Her eyes fluttered and she felt herself sliding into the darkness again. She didn't want to, she had to protect her pack, but she didn't have a choice in the matter.

"Just a while longer, lass," his voice swam to her through the sea of tranquilizer, "Just hold on a little while longer."


	8. I Thought You Wanted To

"How bad is it?" Elizabeth asked from behind her desk, hands folded on the surface in front of her in some semblance of control. Outside she may have been a perfect specimen of unaffected frigidity, but if one looked closely, one could see the desperation and fear that lay behind her eyes. Her knuckles were white as she clasped them together and her lips were set in a grim line.

Carson, one hand tucked into his lab coat pocket and the other clutching a clip board, looked at the leader of Atlantis with weariness written on his face, "It's getting worse. Her body is under so much stress that she doesn't even have the strength to fight anymore."

"How much time?"

"Half a day, at most." He sighed heavily, "But that's being optimistic."

"Be pessimistic," she replied, "How long does she have?"

"Two...three hours tops." He looked at her sadly, "Her heart is under such strain that it's a bloody miracle she hasn't had a heart attack yet."

Elizabeth let out a long breath and stood, "Colonel Sheppard says that the Nacyl have a...ritual which might be able to save her."

"On the planet, you mean?"

"I don't want to put her at any more risk than is absolutely necessary, but if her chances of survival are as slim as you said, then I don't think we have much of a choice."

"So you want to know if she's safe to move?"

"Is she?"

"Under ordinary circumstances, I would say no, but since these circumstances are anything _but_ ordinary..." Carson looked troubled, "If the Nacyl can help her, then I think our only option is to let them."

Elizabeth nodded curtly.

"If it'd be alright," he began, clearing his throat awkwardly, "I'd like to accompany the team to the planet."

The mask of authority slipped back into place on Weir's face and she shook her head, "Colonel Sheppard said that the Nacyl insist on the cleansing ceremony to be performed with as few outsiders present as possible."

Beckett looked incredulous, "Surely you don't intend to turn her over to them without--"

"Now, Carson, I don't like it anymore than you do," Elizabeth cut in, "but Colonel Sheppard barely got them to agree to allow his team to be there for the cleansing. Believe me, I would _prefer_ if I could send an entire medical team, but I can't risk losing Teyla by doing so. They very nearly refused to perform the ritual when Colonel Sheppard demanded to be present."

Atlantis' Chief Medical Officer gaped, "You mean to tell me the Nacyl won't...you mean they would let her _die_?"

"John said the cleansing is a very sacred thing to them. The fact they're offering to do it at all goes against several of their established customs..."

"Don't look a gift horse in the mouth, that what you're saying?"

"I'm saying we should count ourselves lucky that they've agreed to do anything at all," Weir replied, "Teyla is a vital member of Colonel Sheppard's team and if _you_ can't find a way to help her, then we have no choice but to submit to the ways of the Nacyl if we want her to live."

Carson's eyes narrowed dangerously, "I still don't like it."

"Neither do I, Carson...neither do I."


	9. No, I Don't Want To

She was moving.

She was moving but she wasn't moving.

Teyla didn't understand how that could possibly be. She _knew_ her limbs were immobile and yet the landscape around her was changing. Voices, sounds, smells...all of them changing and shifting into one another as she moved without moving.

There was so little left of her rationally functioning mind that she couldn't understand that she was _being_ moved...all she knew was that it was all _very_ disorienting to see the ceiling of the infirmary, then the ceiling of the corridors, the gate room, a jumper...

Then open air.

Blue skies. White fluffy clouds.

The smell of smoke...the smell of blood...

And something else.

Something cloying...something that her senses warned her did not belong.

Teyla whimpered against the strong odor assaulting her nostrils, trying to communicate the danger that it represented. She strained against her bonds but something pushed her back down again.

Why couldn't they understand? That smell...that was a _bad_ smell. That was an _evil_ smell...

That was _malice_.

Why didn't they sense it the way she did? Why did they keep pushing her back down on her back? Why was the world getting fuzzy again?

Just as it was starting to clear...why was her vision growing more and more...

Wait.

The itch was beginning again. The one just beneath her skin that she couldn't reach.

No. Not again. No.

She jerked violently, trying to break free of the straps holding her arms down to the stretcher.

It was happening again.

_Why_?

"Teyla, calm down...Teyla, they're going to help you."

_No. No they aren't._

Her breathing grew labored and loud and she continued to fight, even though she didn't feel the straps holding her loosening at all.

She had to get free. The itch was back...the fuzziness was coming back...

The beast was trying to break free of it's cage inside her body...and if she didn't release it, she felt like her heart would burst.

But the moon...there was no moon...why? Why was it coming back?

She fought harder.

The smell. The bad smell. The scent was forcing her beast to the forefront of her being.

The bloodlust was returning.


	10. Suit Yourself, I'm Easy

From the moment that Colonel Sheppard's team stepped through the event horizon and onto the awaiting Nacylian soil, Teyla started to thrash violently against the restraints that kept her on the stretcher the three men carried.

Her passionate struggling got more and more fierce the closer they got to the village and she started making low, threatening noises deep in her chest.

She strained upwards, pulling at the straps around her wrists, trying desperately to get free once they carried her to the center of the Nacyl village where the tribes elders were awaiting her arrival.

A large ceremonial bonfire was lit, various types of alien plants being thrown onto the flame that crackled and filled the air with an almost overpoweringly fragrant smoke and one of the elders came forward, indicating that the stretcher was to be laid upon the ground.

The Athosian gnashed her teeth and snapped at the old man who moved towards her, knowing instinctively that he meant her harm, whether her friends were aware of his intent or not.

A primal howl tore from Teyla's throat as the elder knelt next to her and pressed his palm to her forehead, coated in some sort of aromatic oil.

Her eyes rolled back in her head as the itch beneath her skin--the one that she had thought to be receding--began anew, making her breaths come in short, frantic pants.

She didn't want to change again…she didn't _want_ the beast to emerge.

Whipping her head from left to right, trying to escape the feel of the oil on her skin, the transformation began against her will.

"She **is** Twofold!" The elder cried as Teyla's body contorted and her bones shifted into a pattern they weren't meant to be in.

Her teeth grew to sharp needle like points, fingernails growing into jagged points and her entire frame started to lengthen. Teyla's voice changed from the human sound it had been to an animalistic rumble that chilled her teammates to their marrow as she cried out in agony.

Watching the transformation of the leader of the Athosians was nothing in comparison to what they were about to witness.

The elder at Teyla's side threw his head back and howled, and the Nacyl that were in the circle around the bonfire raised their own voices in a similar fashion.

"My God," McKay whispered in horror, "They're all…they're all _changing_!"

The appearance of the Nacyl around the fire began to alter as each of them started changing into the same sort of beast that Teyla had become moments earlier.

One of the straps that held Teyla's left arm to the stretcher snapped in half and she lashed out at the still transforming man next to her, knocking him back with one powerful swipe of her claws. She struggled off the stretcher, tearing what little was left of her clothes along the way and freed herself of her ties.

Breathing hard, slightly hunched over and studying the animals surrounding her, Teyla bared her teeth and _roared_.

From there, all hell broke loose.

Half a dozen of the transformed Nacyl launched themselves at Teyla, swarming around her and knocking her to the ground.

By sheer strength of will she fought her way out of the clump of beasts, flesh tearing beneath nails and teeth, her only thought for the protection of her pack.

With the viciousness of one who was possessed, Teyla tore apart three of the creatures with her claws and threw them aside, screaming, growling and snarling the entire time.

Teyla's head snapped to one side as she watched her pack defending themselves from a cluster of Nacyl who were rapidly descending on them.

With a primitive growl, Teyla darted in front of the three men to face the animals that were advancing on their position. She stood, yellow eyes blazing, teeth dripping with saliva and the blood of the Nacyl she'd already ripped apart.

The pack of Nacyl stopped moving at seeing her determined stance in front of her friends.

She snarled and pulled herself up to her full height, forearms outstretched, claws bent into threatening hooks and feet shoulder width apart.

"Mine!" Teyla's voice came out in a rumble that was between human and animal, "**MINE**!"

One of the Nacyl foolishly ignored her stated warning and made for McKay.

With an agility that a creature of her size shouldn't have had, Teyla pounced on the advancing Nacyl, rolling on the ground with it, slashing at it's fur until it was left with a dozen deep gashes. She forced the Nacyl to it's back in the dirt and grabbed it by the throat between her jaws, holding it.

"Mine," she growled again before ripping in one smooth upwards motion, tearing out the Nacyl's throat, "MINE!"

Blood dripping down her muzzle, Teyla batted the corpse of the Nacyl beneath her aside carelessly and resumed her place in front of Sheppard, McKay and Ronon.

Several of the Nacyl fell back and began changing back to their human forms once more.

Teyla's head snapped from side to side as she watched them all transform and fall to their knees in front of her.

Her left eye twitched and she watched them cautiously, suspicious of every movement they made.

The elder who had brought her beast to the forefront of her being, whom she had slapped aside with one mighty paw, shakily stood up.

Teyla scented the air as he tried to approach her.

He smelled different…he smelled…_human_. Not at all like he had moments before.

"Thank you, Emmagen," he bowed his head low, "You have freed us." He brought up one hand and despite the growling noises that Teyla was making in her chest, he reached forward and tentatively put a hand on her head.

The change was immediate.

Teyla's body gave out and she collapsed on the ground in front of the amassed Nacyl, reverting to her human appearance once more.

"What the HELL just happened?"

---

When Teyla awoke in the Atlantis infirmary, aside from a few blank spots in her memory, her mind was as clear as it had ever been.

Her recollections of what had happened to her on the planet were muddled but her thinking processes were human once more.

"Well, look who's awake." Carson Beckett smiled down at Teyla Emmagen, "How're you feelin' lass?"

Teyla blinked a few times and shook her head, "I am…uncertain. I feel…sore…and confused. The Nacyl? What happened to me? I was…not myself."

"I'd say that's an understatement, Teyla." Carson shifted from one foot to the other, "What _do_ you remember, exactly?"

"Changing," she answered, "I was an…animal?"

"Simply put, yes."

"Why am I not--"

"It's a bit complicated. I think it'd be best to let someone else explain," Carson gestured to the doorway where Orha stood. "S'alright, lass, you can come in now."

Orha took a few measured steps forward but didn't meet Teyla's eyes, "You must forgive my people, Teyla Emmagen…we deceived you and your friends so that we might end the curse that was upon us."

"I do not understand."

"The only way for my people to be free of the infection was to find the Twofold who was intentionally keeping the disease alive and kill him. I fear we used you as…bait. "

"You intentionally infected me?"

"No…that was Sidnal's doing. He was a Twofold but not the one we sought." Orha locked eyes with Teyla, "He wanted to take you as his mate and _he_ infected you. But with the cleansing ritual, we forced the suppressed Feral in all of us to surface, knowing that _you_ would instinctively find the remaining Twofold and execute them. Then we would be free of the infection."

Teyla narrowed her eyes at Orha. "How?"

Carson cleared his throat, "I can answer that one. Apparently, a Twofold secretes some kind of hormone that causes the infection to remain active instead of dormant as it's supposed to be."

"We are not in control of our own actions to a certain point because of it, Teyla Emmagen," Orha added shamefully, "Nor are we able to identify the Twofold responsible."

"But an infected outsider _can_," Teyla finished for Orha.

"Yes."

"Am I still…infected?"

"The infection remains dormant in you as it is intended to. For your assistance, forced though it was, you have received enhanced senses and strength." Orha looked up at Teyla. "I will not lie to you and say that I am sorry that you helped us, but I _am_ sorry that you were forced into it by Sidnal."

"Will this not happen again, when another Twofold is born to the Nacyl?"

"No," Orha answered quickly, "Your Doctor Beckett has had time to study the infection and find a way that will insure that no more Twofold are born to my people."

Teyla sat back heavily. "Then I am glad. I would not wish that transformation on another living creature."

"Thanks to you and your pack, Teyla, none will be forced to transform ever again." Orha bowed reverently, "You have the deepest gratitude of the Nacyl."

Teyla couldn't bring herself to say 'You are welcome' so she just nodded as the young Nacylian woman left the infirmary.

"Doctor Beckett?"

"Yes, Teyla?"

"Are you certain that I am not going to transform again?"

"You have my personal guarantee that you won't, Teyla. You've just got enough Nacyl DNA to make your senses more acute…no danger of you turning into a beastie out of the blue ever again." Carson patted her arm with a smile, "Best get some rest now, hm? You've had a long few days."

He pulled the blankets up higher over her and she touched his hand, "Thank you."

"Think nothing of it."

-

A/N: Roll credits!

-falls over-


End file.
